Sympathy for the Devil

Entertaining disenchantments...
Gripping sang-froid ...
But never illusions of a disillusionment ...
Wonder how the play would have done in a non-Shakespearian stage.
Wonder how it would have done in another age..

A thousand loves without a care
A thousand lives, not one to spare
Never a moment of doubt
Never a single bout
Of searching the black soul.

But is it really black?
Or just shades of gray...
Driven into godforsaken desperation
Where sanity begins to stray.

Could it be white?
It should not, but then it might.....
Maybe its too pure
Too pure to endure
The dirty touches, the forced crutches..

(Statutory Warning:
A word at the end
To you my friend...
"Sympathetic is Simply Pathetic!!")